


Jealous Puppies (Of the Wolfkin Variety)

by cjr09



Series: NaEldWriMo [3]
Category: Eldemore
Genre: I still have no idea how to write these two tbh, M/M, but I was asked and I needed to do a character study, but this is how it's gonna be I guess, so look it's these nerds again, what am I doing no one knows, what does the title have to do with the story ancients know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjr09/pseuds/cjr09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfortunately for Fenrir, Cally likes shopping- and this wouldn't be a problem if Cally wouldn't get the shirt stolen off his back (or more accurately, the jewelry stolen off his neck) for his naivete, but fortunately for Caladaer Fenrir's watching out for him.</p><p>In which a shopping trip leads to a discovery, a new tradition, and a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous Puppies (Of the Wolfkin Variety)

_“Cally,”_ Fenrir whines, following along behind the elvian slowly, dragging his feet and doing his best approximation of someone who’s just _dying_ and they need to go home _stat._

“Fenrir, we got here two minutes ago,” Caladaer sighs, mostly ignoring the whining wolfkin through practiced ease as a small clothing stand catches his eye and he starts to gravitate toward it, much to the wolfkin’s displeasure.

 _“Cally,”_ he tries again, but the elvian is busy examining the cloth of a pair of fluffy socks- for the Sealer, undoubtedly- and Fenrir decides to switch tactics and instead starts poking the elvian in the back, trying to turn his attention back to much more important things like _him_ as Cally sets down the pair of socks, apparently unimpressed with them and ultimately deciding he can do better.

Fenrir is, yet again, ignored as Cally drifts to the next cart and promptly starts cooing over some plushies the person at that cart is selling.

He growls under his breath and follows, getting into Cally’s space and leaning into the smaller man, wrapping one arm around his waist and craning his neck uncomfortably to try and rest his cheek on top of Caladaer’s head, mindful of his antlers, and ignores Cally’s sputtered protests like he’d ignored Fenrir’s earlier.

The wolfkin frowns at the plushies, and after a few moments of forcefully hushed arguing (on Cally’s part, mostly) Cally relents to the wolfkin’s closeness, instead moving very aggressively- probably in the hopes Fenrir wouldn’t expect it and let go- but the wolfkin shuffles forward with him, wrapping the other arm around Cally just to be safe and the Elvian turns as red as his hair.

Cally valiantly tries to ignore Fenrir and the shopkeep’s amused stare and Fenrir contemplates picking the elvian up and simply carrying him home so he didn’t have to deal with the horrors that was _shopping._

Caladaer picks up a small direwolf plushie- it’s not all that much bigger than Fenrir’s outstretched hand, claws and all- and pets it gently behind it’s floppy ears and Fenrir huffs in irritation.

It’s a soft ivory color, the same as Cally’s antlers, with sewn-on emerald green button eyes, fluffy fur and poofy tails, small pink tongue sticking out like a puppy that hadn’t quite figured out how those worked yet, and a sewn-on pure red heart, added as though an afterthought, and Fenrir grudgingly admits to himself that okay, it’s maybe a little bit cute.

“What do you even use these things for, anyway?” Fenrir asks, muffled as he tries not to inhale the Elvian’s hair, and Cally shifts uncomfortably as his breath tickles along the back of his ears and he stifles a giggle, still stroking the dire plushie’s fur.

“I don’t know, Fenrir,” he says, and finally squirms out of Fenrir’s grasp to the wolfkin’s displeasure, “They’re just nice things to simply _have,_ I think.

“They’re nice reminders of home and happy memories,” he says, looking down at the plushie, seeing something Fenrir cannot, “you can talk at them and cuddle with them, they’re warm and good company...”

“If you want to ‘cuddle’ with a Dire, I’m sure Delilah would love to. Or you could ask the Sealer to borrow one of theirs,” Fenrir says, flat and bored, before tilting his head from side to side as if weighing his options.

“Or I could cuddle with you,” he says in the same, serious, deadpan tone of voice and it sets Cally into a whole new round of blushing, indignant anger as he sputters for a rebuttal and eventually settling on hissing _“Fenrir!”_ in an absolutely scandalized tone of voice and Fenrir’s stoicism breaks immediately as Cally punches him on the shoulder weakly, the wolfkin almost doubling over with laughter as they attract the attention of probably everyone in the market.

Cally buys the plushie and sets it delicately on top of the folded cloak, upon which lays a pair of belts that would actually look _nice_ if worn together and a couple of books, one a new release, one older, and a wide-brimmed hat in a circular box- _‘a hat box specifically for this hat, isn’t that amazing Fenrir?’-_ and finally declares himself done shopping and Fenrir practically hauls Cally by the hand out of there before he saw some other cute plush toy he had to stop for or the sheen of jewelry caught his eye- the naïve elvian would only be robbed, even if he did go to look at it- so really, this is for his own safety.

“Fenrir, slow down, you’re practically tearing my arm off,” Cally says, sounding a bit pained as he struggles to keep up with the wolfkin who stops ignores him until he very suddenly stops, and Cally nearly slams into his back, losing balance and leaning into the death grip Fenrir still held on his hand.

“Cally, what’s this?” Fenrir asks, eyes locked on the window of what must be a new bakery, if Caladaer’s unfamiliar with it, and Cally blinks between him and the modest bakery- cleverly named ‘Absolutely Muffin’- in confusion, and the wolfkin shakes himself out of his trance and starts tugging Cally away, albeit less forcefully than before.

“What, after all that you don’t want to go in?” the elvian asks, surprised, digging his heels in and Fenrir stops for Cally this time, apparently surprised that the other man was willing to go inside it.

“It looks like a dive,” Fenrir warns, but allows Cally drag him along for once, breathing deeply to try and hide the fact that despite its looks it smelled _amazing-_ and Cally clicks his tongue in displeasure.

“It’s _quaint,_ Fenrir,” he sighs, pushing open the door with the hand holding his bag and leading Fenrir along with the other and the wolfkin is curiously silent  as the small ding of a bell announces their arrival.

It really is a delightful little shop, with only about three small tables for two each- Candy Humming Bumbles flit about happily, their magic filling the little shop with the smell and feel of _home_ and the two gravitate to the counter like that itself is enchanted and Cally smiles despite himself, looking around curiously, and Fenrir watches Cally with a mirroring smile, predatory gaze unusually soft as the elvian seems to forget that they were still, in fact, holding hands and Fenrir revels in it.

“Well, what do you want to get?” Cally asks, finally tearing his gaze from the assorted pastries to look at his companion who hastily tries to make it seem like he was looking at the pastries the entire time and so he points at one randomly and Cally hums in agreement.

“Blueberry muffins? I hadn’t thought you the type,” Cally jokes, flicking at one of the wolfkin’s ears playfully, smiling at the tiny pink candy hearts affixed to the tops- an influence of the Candy Humming Bumbles, no doubt- and Fenrir huffs and plasters himself to Cally’s side again as punishment, wrapping his arms around the elvian’s waist again and the person behind the counter chuckles audibly and Cally immediately flails out of Fenrir’s hold at the sound.

They both order blueberry muffins and retreat to the only available table in the corner- the other two tables taken up by a girl and her papers, who alternates between writing furiously and downing more coffee than was probably healthy, muttering something about ‘too many hyphens’ and ‘how to characters even’ and the other taken up by a relatively normal looking couple of a wolfkin and little elvian halfborn, who aside from occasionally breaking out into laughter are mostly content with talking quietly with one another as Candy Humming Bumbles flitter about them happily and Fenrir wonders if that’s what he wants with Cally for all of two seconds before forcefully shoving those thoughts far, far out of his mind and focuses on the task at hand- Sorren would be so proud.

Cally takes a bite of his muffin first and makes an honestly _obscene_ sound and slaps at Fenrir to do the same and they don’t really recall anything over the absolute _bliss_ that is these muffins.

They buy a dozen and the old lady running the shop is so charmed with Cally she makes it a bakers’ dozen and throws in some extra pastries as well, ‘ _for the rest of the birdfamily_ ,’ Fenrir insists, _‘because if Willy tries to take one of my muffins I will actually fight him.’_

Fenrir carries the bag and Cally carries the sweets because he doesn’t trust Fenrir with them and he’s _right_ but it still stings Fenrir’s pride a little and makes him wonder when he got to know Cally so well, and if they hold hands on the way back neither of them take much notice.

Cally neatly packs away the pastries in the kitchen and Fenrir gets his chance to steal another muffin and Cally sets about setting everyone’s assorted gifts in front of their respective doors- Hat for Willy, belts and books for Sorren- why he insisted on wearing two was beyond Cally- and cloak for the Sealer along with a few Seraphim Tears, and notes saying ‘Sweets in the kitchen!’ before finally returning with the little dire wolf plushie he’d bought earlier, humming a tune Fenrir distantly recognizes under his breath and Fenrir watches Cally clean up a bit before Delilah pads up to him, and he stands, because they really should be getting back to the Temple- it’d been too long since their last visit- and Cally seems to recognize the movement because his eyes flash with something akin to sadness before he manages to wipe it from his face.

“Oh, by the way, Fenrir, I thought you might like this?” he asks more than says, all but throwing the wolfkin the little dire plushie before rushing to explain himself, face slowly growing redder, “I know things like this aren’t really something you like, but I thought you might want to have something around while you travel? To remind you of home, so you remember to come home more often. Willy’ll get bored just playing card games with me, you know.”

Fenrir turns the plushie over in his hands.

He doesn’t really even have anywhere to put it, and even if he did it would undoubtedly get dropped in the sand and blown about and probably bled on, be it his blood or his preys’, and it’d get torn or worn or lose an eye somehow.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” Cally rushes to add, and Fenrir hugs it close to his chest as Caladaer reaches to take it back.

“You gave it to me, and now it’s mine,” Fenrir says, nodding resolutely, and while the concept of owning things is still strange to him the concept isn’t an awful one.

The little toy’s been in the house for all of thirty minutes and it already smells like Sorren’s pancakes and Cally’s flowers and Willy’s way-to-fragrant aftershave and he wouldn’t mind taking that with him when he goes.

It’s a nice reminder that he still _has_ a home.

Cally smiles, relieved and genuine, and Fenrir swallows harshly before he can do something stupid like kiss him.

“Thanks, Cally,” Fenrir says, and it feels like both too much and not enough so he rushes to change the subject before _emotions_ become involved, “Now what do you say, one last muffin before I hit the road?”

Cally laughs, light and free, covering his mouth with one hand to block the sound and Fenrir pouts, “I would love to, Fen.”

Fenrir thinks he can postpone leaving for the Ruins just a _little_ bit longer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did I actually manage to go the length of a story without using a single horizontal break I never thought I'd see the day
> 
> Long story short this was an experiment that ended with vague amounts of success I mean I got a story down Fenrir's super gay and Cally's super oblivious and I still don't know how to write them but whelp there they are
> 
> gratuitous oc inserts ftw
> 
> Also where does Fenrir even keep that toy. In his scarf, probably.
> 
> NaEldWriMo Day 3!
> 
> EDIT, 12/29/15: LOOK AT THIS AMAZING PLUSHIE GRIFFORIK ON ELDEMORE DREW FOR ME AND BENA AND THIS STORY IT'S FANTASTIC AND I'LL LOVE THEM FOREVER THANK YOU SO MUCH GRIFF AAAAAAAAAAAAAa


End file.
